


Black Swan

by JokesterWrites



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, s2.13 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 13:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6197584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JokesterWrites/pseuds/JokesterWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oswald's in Arkham and you're going to get him out, even if you have to tear Arkham down brick by brick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Swan

**Author's Note:**

> Just some random crap that I had to get out after watching 2.13

“Don’t.” You said sternly, shaking your head at Oswald.

He looked morose, “I have to go into hiding, Jim returned a favour by getting me out of Gotham… but I can’t leave. Gotham is mine. You need to go. I’ve arranged for Gabe to get your out of the city. He’ll look out for you.”

Turning your back to him you crossed your arms, holding onto yourself. Oswald had come back, despite being alive, looked far worse for wear. His empire was crumbling. You’d managed to hold onto the entertainment district, but the rest of it was breaking up and being claimed by other crime families. Oswald was publically wanted. The posters had been plastered all over Gotham just this morning. 

So he’d decided to go into hiding, unwilling to put the people he cared about in danger. 

“Please trust me. It’ll all work out in the end.” Oswald said softly, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around you, dropping a kiss to your shoulder.

“Stay with me.” You whispered, melting into his touch. Oswald didn’t say anything, just holding you tighter.

That night he made love you to you it was his last night on earth, desperate and passionate. In the morning when you woke, blissful and happy, your hand drifted across the bed, reaching for your love. Instead of feeling his warmth, that side was cold and empty. He had left already and that same coldness filled your heart.

It took days to console your tears. Gabe tried to help, reminding you that every day without news was a good day. Time passed, your heart still tender and sore, but you threw yourself into work. Butch may be holding onto a majority of Oswald’s holdings, but he didn’t dare come up against you. You’d already confronted him, allowing him what properties and trades he’d claimed, but the clubs were yours. Especially Oswald’s. That was being grasped firmly for sheer sentimentality. 

You were looking over some files in your office at the club, when an unexpected announcement came over the radio. Flipping the dial up, you listened intently, “Breaking News: Crime Lord Oswald Cobblepot has been apprehended by the GCPD. He has pleaded guilty to the death of former mayor Theo Galavan, and will be moved to Arkham on pleas of insanity. More to follow on the evening news.”

Slumping in your chair you stared at the radio in shock. Oswald didn’t kill Galavan. He’d confided in you exactly who killed Galavan. 

Jim Gordon.

You had a feeling as to why he’d done it. Jim and Oswald’s lives seemed forever intertwined. Like a disease growing over the other. Jim sometimes brought out the best in Oswald, and Oswald brought out the worst in Jim. They were two forces at constant odds, pushing and pulling. He knew that Lee Thompkins was pregnant. Oswald still held up the mob’s more traditional values. Family was off limits. Family, one did anything for. Oswald would lie for Jim, just so Lee’s child would have a father. Suddenly you felt sick, the acid burning up your throat and you grasped the garbage can just in time. 

“Everything all right, miss?” Gabe stepped into the office, concern on his face.

Wiping your mouth you reached for a glass of water. “Fine… I’ll be fine….Wait!” Gabe paused in his exit, “Could you please find out Oswald’s transfer and visitation requirements.”

Gabe hesitated, “Miss, the boss said you weren’t to get involved.”

Your steady gaze met Gabe’s. “Did his instructions also include what was to happen when he got tossed into the looney bin? 

Gabe sighed and shook his head. “I’ll get what you need. Sure thing.”

Running a hand over your forehead, you slicked away the cold sweat that had broken over your body. You still felt nauseous and the smell from your garbage can wasn’t helping. 

“Well Oswald… you’re certainly in a pickle.” You hummed unhappily, moving a pamphlet aside to gaze at the blueprints of Indian Hill. There had been something bugging you about that piece of property. Ever since Maroni had been arguing over it. There was something you were missing, and now you knew.

Indian Hill ran under Arkham.

x.x

It didn’t take long for you to absorb the information in front of you. Gabe was remarkedly resourceful. Probably why he’d managed to live so long in this business.

“So I have to be an immediate relative.” You mused out loud, tapping your manicured nail over a passage in Arkham’s policies. 

“They know he has no living relatives.” Gabe reminded you. Brushing his concern off with a noncommittal noise, you reached for a pen, making a few quick notes. “That’s true. But they don’t know he has a wife.”

Gabe frowned, “When did that happen?”  
Glancing up at the burly man, you smiled coyly, “Do you mind giving me a lift to Pastor Norris? I feel like praying…”

The pause you gave as your stomach rolled and rebelled against you, made you hold up a finger. “On second thought, give me five minutes.” You rushed from the office, to the toilet where your stomach emptied itself. This was concerning to you, you had been dealing with this on and off sickness all week. 

x.x

The Pastor was pleased to see you, showing you around the church. It was in dire need of repair, and you commented on that. He looked abashed. “Donations aren’t what they used to be. The important thing is that they have someone to talk to. Would you care for some tea?”

He was adept at changing the subject and lead you to his office. As he poured tea for you, you circled the room, gazing at the aging pictures on the wall. It was truly a place of beauty in it’s time. Then your eyes caught a picture on his desk, a family photo.

Now you had him.

Accepting the tea, you let it warm your hands, “I’d like to make a donation to your church…. a rather large sum. I’ll also have someone come by and attend to fixing the roof.”

He looked flabbergasted, “I… this.. this is… wow!”

Your sharp eyes held him, “But I have a favour to ask of you. I understand this is perhaps… unethical and against your morals. I am in need of someone to sign my marriage certificate. No questions asked.” The document in question was slid towards him.

The happiness slipped from Pastor Norris’s face. “I see.” He said quietly, fingers barely touching the thick paper. You saw his eyes glance towards the framed photo of his family and you laid it on thick, “I imagine that this would help your church and family out greatly, as the signing of this will help my family out greatly.”

His shaking fingers signed the certificate, though his eyes widened when he say your husband’s name. 

“Thank you. I trust that God will forgive us for our wrongdoings… when we work to help those less fortunate than ourselves.”

Now your document was signed and slipped back in your purse, you deposited four thick envelopes on his desk. “My donation. In addition, I’ve already arranged for my contractor to come by tomorrow. I trust you will be here to oversee repairs. This place simply gives me so much peace…. ”

There was a warning held in your words. One that Pastor Norris understood explicitly. “Yes… of course. I look forward to it.”

x.x

It was easy to arrange entrance to Arkham, especially with the flurry of activity you witnessed as you were about to step into the main building. The GCPD were just arriving. No doubt bringing the wife of Gotham’s newest terrorist, Mr. Freeze. When Gotham had turned into a world of aliases and monsters was beyond you. Right now all that mattered was seeing your beloved. 

Seeing him was a whole other story. You almost walked right past him, but your attention was caught by the flapping of his arms. “Be the goose….”

Watching this was heartbreaking. He’d lost it completely. There was confusion and pain in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen for so long. Not even when he was disrespected by Maroni. The nurse overseeing this little game guided him to tap the head of a fellow inmate. “Duck…”

Oswald stumbled around the circle, chanting duck in a slow monotonous tone. It continued, him saying duck over each person, but never claiming goose. Anger welled inside you, and your jaw tightened. They would pay for this. This wasn’t treatment. This was causing insanity.

“Can I help you? My name is Ms. Peabody.” The woman who had set Oswald on his path was now standing in front of you. Raising an eyebrow, you coolly announced, “I’m here to see my husband.”

“Your husband?” Ms. Peabody repeated, before signalling an orderly to take her spot before she joined you on your side of the bars. “I wasn’t aware anyone was visiting today.”

“You wouldn’t…. seeing as your employees have been remarkedly unhelpful in arranging a specific time.” The sharp smile across your face alerted Ms. Peabody that she was dealing with someone who didn’t take no for an answer. Her concern escalated when you announced your name.

“Wait here. I’ll get Dr. Strange.”

x.x

“Doctor Strange… it appears we have a problem.” Ms. Peabody announced. Hugo looked up from the his file, he was already arranging how to entrap Victor Freeze. 

“A problem?” He said slowly, “What kind of problem.”

“It appears our Mr. Cobblepot has a Mrs. Cobblepot.” 

Hugo blinked slowly. “I didn’t think our treatments would create such vivid hallucinations and beliefs for him to think a fellow patient is married to him.”  
Ms. Peabody opened her mouth to correct him, but your voice interrupted. 

“Treatment? What kind of treatment would he need?” You asked, sharp and irritable. Unhappy with being made to wait for Ms. Peabody, you had found your own way to Dr. Strange’s office. 

When Ms. Peabody stepped aside, Hugo could immediately see why Oswald had married you. You were dressed elegantly in a black a-line dress accentuating your waist, the hem brushing past your knees. The lace over it a imagery of swans, if his eyes detected correctly. Then the sharp curve of black and white kitten heels that imitated Oswald’s own dress shoes. The brim of your day hat was wide, and large black glasses were grasped in hand, hands that were also covered in small black kid leather gloves. 

Quite the vision to behold, but it was all outshone by the fire in your eyes and the sharp purse of your rouged lips. Mr. Cobblepot had married a temptress

“Ms. Peabody, you can return to your duties. I’m sure Mrs. Cobblepot and I have plenty to discuss.”

He provided you with a cup of tea, “Please sit.”

Arranging your skirts, you perched on the edge of the chair he offered. Already having taken a quick survey of his office, you’d taken note of his own blueprints of Arkham.

“Planning to expand?” You commented, ignoring the cup of tea placed before you. Hugo glanced at his desk, and carefully closed the file. 

“We should talk about your husband’s rehabilitation. If you even are his wife.. as Mr. Cobblepot has made no mention of a wife during our sessions.”

His gaze was snake like, unblinking and certainly unlikeable. It was like sitting across from a viper, patient and waiting for the correct moment to strike. But you’d played this game before. 

“I don’t imagine he would. We married before he went into hiding.” You lied effectively, “I figured there may be some paperwork problems, so I have brought my marriage certificate.” Producing the document you dropped it on his desk, and fixed him with a look, “Now about my husband’s treatment?”

Hugo looked over the certificate, eyeing it with interest. This certainly complicated things. When a patient had no relatives, the state took over their custody and approved treatment without any qualms. 

But you…. you weren’t going to let just anything happen. He would have to be more careful about his notes. Dr. Strange glanced at his monitor, noting the arrival of Jim Gordon to the main entrance with the patient he was most interested in. Nora Fries. 

“I hate to cut our time short, but I have a appointment I simply cannot move. Perhaps you should contact Ms. Peabody and arrange to come in at a different time to speak with me about your husband’s treatment.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, and an odd smile graced your lips, “Of course. Though be rest assured Dr Strange, if any lasting harm comes to Oswald Cobblepot, I will tear this place down. Indian Hill included.”

He watched you exit, before picking up his recorder, “Mrs. Cobblepot displays similar signs of aggression as her husband. Though hers are contained within impractical threats. She appears to know a great deal more than I had previously anticipated.”

x.x

On your way out, you paused to give one long look at Oswald. He was still wandering in that circle, the echo of “duck… duck..duck..” forever repeated. You wanted to call out, to speak to him. There were things you wanted to tell him. But this shell of a man wasn’t Oswald. He wouldn’t understand… not with the drugs they were clearly keeping him under. 

This was not what he would have expected, this much you knew. Arkham was a joke. An idea of claiming being insane to hide out amongst the truly crazy. Only this had all backfired on him. If Oswald wouldn’t throw Jim under the bus for his crimes, you had no qualms about doing so irregardless if Oswald had made a deal with the Detective or not. 

Speaking of the Detective,... “Jim Gordon.” You called out his name and he turned towards you, just in time to feel your hand striking across his face.

“Whoah, little lady… calm down.” Detective Bullock reached for you and you tugged your arm out of his grasp. “Bullock if you value anything in this world, remove your hands from my person.” The sharp bite of your voice had Harvey letting you go. 

Jim was massaging the side of his face, the harsh red imprint of your hand still visible. Lee was behind him, concern and confusion on her face, but she didn’t move from where she was helping settle a woman in a wheelchair. 

“He lied for you,” You spat at him, “You’re the reason he’s here. Oswald’s done a lot of things for you in the past. Maybe it’s time you returned the favour.”

Oswald’s head popped up at your raised voice. No… no… you couldn’t be here. Not here! His overly bright eyes darted around, looking for the source. Ms. Peabody stepped in his line of vision, and he was afraid. Afraid of the repercussions of his disobedience. So he continued in his circle, torn between desperation at wanting to hear your voice again, and the need to tune it out. Was it just a sign of his madness? Had he simply invented your voice? 

Jim looked uncomfortable, his gaze flickering to Lee and Harvey before looking down on you. “He pleaded guilty to murder. Oswald’s done terrible things. You should really just move on. He’s paying his penance for his crimes.”

Your hand gripped the front of his shirt, dragging him to your level, “Maybe you should follow his example and plead guilty to your own crimes. Then maybe there will be two children with their father’s in prison.”

Jim gave you a long look as horrified realization crossed his face, “You don’t mean…. no…”

Letting go of him you turned your attention to Lee, “Normally I would never judge a woman for her choices, as my own have not always been well thought out. But you’ve picked a real winner here. At least Oswald has never lied to me.” You slipped your sunglasses back on and stalked past them, emotions whirling within you and threatening to spill over. Gabe was waiting for you by the car, “Take me home Gabe, we have work to do.” It was only once you were sitting in the back of the car that you broke into tears. 

x.x

“What the hell was that?” Lee stared at her fiancee. Jim wouldn’t look her in the eye. Harvey had figured it out though. He scratched at his beard, “To think that Penguin put a bun in that oven!” Harvey muttered, watching Oswald circle again. “Shit…” 

Then Hugo Strange was greeting them, directing them about.


End file.
